


From Fools and From Sages

by GotTheSilver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 03:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6594673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mini road trip.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <i>There’s quiet from Cas, and when Dean glances at him, there’s a satisfied smile on his face; reaching over, Dean takes Cas’ hand and squeezes once before letting go.  Simple Man is coming through the speakers, and Dean cranks it up as they cross into Nebraska.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Fools and From Sages

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday Iva, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> title from Aerosmith - Dream On because if you're doing a road trip, you gotta have Aerosmith.
> 
> Sam's dog's name is 100% Michelle's doing!
> 
> with many thanks to BK for the last minute beta, any mistakes left are mine.
> 
> [fic post on tumblr](http://motleywolf.tumblr.com/post/143031531657/deancas-from-fools-and-from-sages-6k)

It happens the day that Cas spots the old Chevrolet Suburban in the driveway of a house with a ‘For Sale’ sign stuck on the front of the vehicle; it’s blue, well looked after, and Cas looks at it the way Dean looks at the Impala.

Making a decision, Dean pulls the Impala over and gets out, Cas following him, a slight look of confusion on his face.

“Dean?”

“You like it, right?”

“I—yes.”

“Then let’s see how much it is.”

They’ve been between jobs for a long period of time now; with God back and actually paying attention to heaven, Crowley locked away in hell, and a whole bunch of hunters co-ordinating themselves through the internet in a way that Dean never would’ve predicted, there’s no need for them to be travelling cross country anymore.

Hell, Sam’s even got a dog now. Some scrappy thing he found at the side of the road and brought back to the bunker, his own puppy dog eyes working overtime as he outlaid all the reasons he should be able to keep it.

It’s quiet, is what Dean’s getting at, and the Suburban Cas is looking over would be perfect for a road trip. The bench seats at the back have been pulled out, and some part of Dean aches for what the vehicle once was, but he can’t help but think that now there’s enough space for he and Cas to sleep in there if they wanted. There’s some minor wear to the body, easily fixed if Dean can match the colour, but otherwise it’s in great condition.

Cas’ eyes are lighting up as he runs his hands over the frame and Dean knows that, whatever the cost, he’s going to end up buying this van.

*

For the first time in a long time, Dean’s leaving the Impala behind, but for once it feels okay. Sam’s under strict instructions not to fuck her up, to damn sure not let the dog inside, and when Dean climbs into the Suburban next to Cas, there isn’t the churning in his gut that he thought there would be.

Cas is barely awake, his hair a mess, a travel mug of coffee clutched in his hands, and a pair of novelty sunglasses on that he found the first time they took him to Goodwill; they have red frames and take up half of his face, but Cas loves them beyond all measure.

Dean’s box of tapes is shoved under his seat, he pulls out Lynyrd Skynyrd’s first album that he found on that same trip to Goodwill, and pushes it into the tape deck. Looking over his shoulder to double check that the cooler is in the back, Dean smiles at the sight of the mattress and blankets spread out, and when he turns back, Cas is looking right at him. “What?” he asks, as they head out.

“It’s different,” Cas says. “Going somewhere with you like this.”

“Without somethin’ to kill?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a couple days by the Missouri, Cas, not a vacation,” Dean says, driving towards the state line into Nebraska.

Cas sighs heavily, taking a drink from his mug and settles back in the seat. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Put down the choices you make,” Cas says. “I’d be happy to go anywhere with you, Dean. I would be happy staying home with you, or getting on a plane with you, as long as you were with me.”

“Cas, I—” Dean breaks off, his hands clutching the wheel tightly. Even now, the way Cas talks to him can freeze his entire brain because it’s so open, so honest, that he doesn’t know how to deal with it. Dean knows that this is it for both of them, can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else as much as he wants Cas, but whenever he thinks about it too long it terrifies him. He’s never thought about his life in terms of forever, never believed he’d get a happily ever after, but with Cas, he feels like it might happen. “Okay,” he says eventually. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

Dean looks over at Cas, feeling Cas’ eyes piercing through him even with the sunglasses on. “Yes, Cas.” Fixing his eyes back on the road in front of him, Dean shifts in his seat. “And, y’know, me too. Wherever you are.”

There’s quiet from Cas, and when Dean glances at him, there’s a satisfied smile on his face; reaching over, Dean takes Cas’ hand and squeezes once before letting go. Simple Man is coming through the speakers, and Dean cranks it up as they cross into Nebraska.

*

Dean’s lost count of the amount of times he’s driven through this state on the way to see Bobby; he’s got all the quickest routes memorised, and it’s a strange thing to realise that he doesn’t need to speed this time, doesn’t need to push through on no sleep and whatever else because if he doesn’t, someone might die. This isn’t an emergency, it isn’t life or death, it’s him and Cas taking a well earned break from all the shit they’ve had to deal with since the damn day they met.

“I’m hungry,” Cas says, looking up from a trashy romance novel that he’s inexplicably fond of. “Can we stop?”

Dean’s still getting used to Cas’ more human urges, has learnt not to question it; he still has his grace, but he sleeps and gets hungry, and Dean’s not entirely sure if this is a choice that Cas made, or if it’s what happens when an angel spends all their time on Earth. “Find us a diner,” Dean responds, handing over his phone. “Anywhere that doesn’t look like it’ll give us food poisoning.”

Cas takes the phone, frowning at the screen. “That’s not something they usually list on the menu.”

“Just find us somewhere, Cas.”

The town they end up in is almost as small as Lebanon, but judging by the friendly welcome they get from the waitress, the diner is used to people passing through on the way to somewhere else. They end up in a booth in the back, and Dean pauses for a second, doubt playing in his mind, before sliding right in next to Cas, leaving the other side empty. It’s a tight squeeze, and Dean’s not entirely sure if he’s made the right decision until Cas looks at him, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. The waitress brings over laminated menus with faded photos of various diner staples on, and when Dean looks up to order coffees, she’s smiling at them indulgently, her name tag reading Annie.

“You boys heading anywhere special?” Annie asks when she returns with the coffee pot, pouring it out for them.

“Camping by the Missouri,” Dean says. “Up where my uncle taught me to fish.”

“Picked a good week for it, weather’s going to be beautiful. You two know what you want?”

“Uh, I’ll take the double bacon cheeseburger,” Dean says. “Extra fries.”

“I’d like the same,” Cas says with a nod. “And the pancakes.”

“Good choices,” Annie says, taking the menus and heading off to put their orders in.

“I didn’t know Bobby taught you to fish,” Cas says, his hand under the table resting on Dean’s thigh, fingers absently running up and down in the closest thing Cas has to a nervous tic.

“Yeah,” Dean says, covering Cas’ hand with his own, threading their fingers together. “I was thirteen I think? Dad left us with Bobby, we were meant to be training, but once dad left, Bobby loaded us up into a van and took us out there. We roasted s'mores, slept in a tent, didn’t pick up a gun the entire time we were there.”

“You were able to be a child,” Cas says quietly. “I’m glad you had that.”

“For a few days, until dad came back. Then we were off again and, man, he was pissed that Bobby didn’t let us train.” A thunderous look comes over Cas’ face, and Dean leans in, kissing him on the cheek and nudging him with his nose. “I’m okay,” he says quietly. “Cas, hey, I promise.”

“If I could—”

“I know.”

There’s a crackle in the atmosphere that’s a remnant of how powerful Cas’ grace still is, a reminder of when they first met, and Dean kisses Cas’ temple, trying to get Cas to calm down, not wanting to explain to the town why their power has blown out. “Hey,” Dean says. “You an’ me, that makes me forget all that shit, okay?”

Cas nods, and slowly the atmosphere returns to normal, just in time for their food to be brought over. The burgers glisten with grease, and there’s a seasoning on the fries that Dean’s practically drooling over; Cas’ pancakes are light and fluffy and Dean watches the delight on his face as he pours syrup all over them. Detangling his hand from Cas, Dean picks up his burger and bites into it, a groan vibrating in his throat as he chews.

“We’re stopping here on the way back,” Dean says, and Cas nods in agreement.

They eat quickly, more out of hunger than a need to get back on the road, and Dean grabs a pie to take with them before leaving enough money to settle the check and cover a tip for Annie.

Getting back into the van, Dean places the pie in the cooler and looks over at Cas. “You wanna drive?”

“I don’t know the way.”

“I’ll show you.”

*

They pull into the campsite as the sun’s starting to make its descent, and Dean checks them in before directing Cas towards their spot; it’s a good one, a decent amount of space with a worn wooden picnic bench and a view of the river. Dean gets out of the van and walks towards the water, nodding at the people in the area, and breathes in the air. It instantly reminds him of those few days with Bobby and Sam, goofing off and pushing Sam in the water while Bobby laughed, cooking them up some hot dogs. He doesn’t realise how long he’s been standing there until Cas comes up behind him and takes his hand, leaning into him, and it’s a comfort, always has been, even back when neither of them had admitted what this was.

“You seem happy to be here,” Cas says, looking out at the river.

“Yeah,” Dean says, turning his head and giving Cas a quick kiss. “Happy to be here with you.”

They stand there for a while, watching the sun fall in the sky, before Dean realises they should get things set up before it gets totally dark, and they head back towards the van. Forgoing cooking for the night, Dean pulls out a couple of beers, the pie, and some chips, and they sit on the edge of the mattress, looking out at the river, the sky varying shades of orange and pink, casting shadows over Cas’ face when Dean looks at him.

“How many sunsets have you seen?” Dean asks, gesturing with his bottle to the sky.

“Millions,” Cas says, somewhat wistfully. “More.”

“Oh.”

“None of them meant as much as this one.”

When Dean looks over at Cas, Cas has got a bit of apple pie smeared on his cheek near his mouth, sunglasses hooked in the neck of the faded Jurassic Park t-shirt he’s ridiculously attached to, and the bottle of beer wedged between his thighs. The fading sunlight is casting a golden glow over Cas’ skin, and somehow that makes Cas look more otherworldly than anything he’s ever done before.

“Hold still,” Dean says when Cas looks at him curiously. He could wipe the pie up with his finger, but they’re on vacation, and there’s no one around, and, dammit, if Dean wants to lick pie off Cas’ face, he’s gonna. There’s a sharp inhale of breath from Cas when Dean’s tongue swipes across his cheek, and it doesn’t take any effort from Dean to turn this into a kiss, his mouth opening as Cas catches up. Dean’s never going to get tired of the way Cas reacts to a simple kiss; how he’s learnt how to go slow, that not every kiss has to lead to sex—although Dean’s holding out some hope here—how sometimes this is all it can to be, and that’s enough.

The air has got cooler around them as the sun’s retreated, and Dean can feel the goosebumps on Cas’ arms as he runs his fingers along Cas’ skin, a stark contrast to the heat starting to burn inside Dean. “You getting cold?” Dean asks quietly, nose brushing against Cas’ cheek.

“You’re keeping me warm,” Cas says, and Dean can feel the smile on Cas’ face. Pulling away, Dean reaches behind him and grabs a hoodie, handing it to Cas who rolls his eyes, but puts it on.

“You tired?”

“No.”

Dean nods, lifting his arm up so Cas can curl into him, Dean’s arm resting over Cas’ shoulders. “Stars are coming out,” he says, Cas’ hair brushing against his chin. “Do you miss it?”

“Heaven?”

“Yeah. Up there on your cloud, strumming your harp.”

“You know full well that’s not what happens in heaven,” Cas says, pinching Dean’s stomach.

“Bet you’d look cute like that, though,” Dean laughs, squirming under Cas’ touch.

“You think I look cute in everything,” Cas says smugly, somehow inching closer to Dean, his hand resting on Dean’s stomach, fingers moving in small circles over Dean’s t-shirt. “I do, miss it, sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, I don’t want to go back, couldn’t go back, not now. It was... simple. At least, I thought it was, I didn’t know that Naomi was—that she—”

“Cas—”

“I questioned things before I met you, Dean, I just don’t remember doing so. None of what happened to me was your fault.”

“It was.”

“Free will, remember?”

Dean’s laugh is hollow, and he kisses the top of Cas’ head. “I guess.”

“I wouldn’t change this,” Cas says, straightening up, dislodging Dean’s arm. “If what we went through is what had to happen for us to get this, for me to to share a life with you, it was worth it.”

“You’ve been tortured.”

“So have you.”

“You died.”

“So did you.”

“Cas—”

“Would you change anything?” Cas asks, his eyes hard as he looks at Dean. “Any of it, knowing that we end up here?”

“I would’ve kissed you sooner,” Dean answers. “I would’ve made sure you knew there was a home for you with me.”

“That’s it?”

Dean looks down at his hands, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Cas.”

“You’re happy now?”

“Yeah,” Dean says quietly. “I don’t know that I’m allowed to be, but I’m happy.” Looking up to meet Cas’ gaze, Dean smiles a little. “You make me happy, and that scares the shit outta me, Cas.” Touching Cas’ cheek, Dean leans in and catches Cas’ mouth in a kiss, trying to pour all the words he can’t quite say into it. Cas’ hand rests on Dean’s thigh, fingers idly stroking up and down the worn seam along Dean’s inner thigh, heading dangerously close to Dean’s crotch.

Cas pulls away, eyes fixed on Dean as he very deliberately brushes his fingers over Dean’s slowly hardening dick, and Dean bites back a moan, not taking his eyes off Cas. “We should, uh, not get arrested,” Dean says, catching Cas’ wrist before Cas’ touch makes him lose all control.

Scooting back, Dean leans down to untie the laces on his boots, throwing them behind him into the front seat, and he sits on the mattress, waiting for Cas to join him. Cas’ sneakers soon follow Dean’s boots, and after he climbs in, Cas pulls the door shut behind him. The anticipation sits heavy on Dean’s chest as he looks at Cas who stares right back at him before carefully taking the sunglasses out from underneath his hoodie and putting them on top of the cooler, and it’s that simple gesture that sums up every reason Dean fell in love with him in the first place.

“Fuck, Cas—come here.” Dean reaches for Cas, tugging him down, sliding his hands underneath the layers Cas is wearing until he finally gets to touch Cas’ skin. Cas jumps, mumbling that Dean’s hands are cold, but Dean kisses him soft, stroking along Cas’ sides until they’re both warm, Cas’ body pliant against his. “Better?” Dean asks quietly, kissing a line up Cas’ neck, teeth scraping over Cas’ earlobe.

“Dean, I want—” Cas squirms, pushing his hips down against Dean’s, and Dean curses louder than he probably should given that they’re basically in a public space.

Reaching down, Dean fumbles with the buttons on Cas’ jeans, letting out a triumphant cry when he manages to get them undone, and when Cas rolls off him to kick them off, he works his own fly open before pushing his pants down his legs. Cas is kneeling on the mattress, head ducked to avoid hitting the top of the van, still in a hoodie and t-shirt, hard dick straining against the front of his boxers, and Dean’s never wanted him more.

Taking off his own underwear, Dean rolls on his side, fumbling in his duffle for the lube he knows he put in there, and when he turns back to Cas, lube in his hand, Cas has stripped off the rest of his clothes and he’s so fucking beautiful Dean sucks in a breath.

“Take this off,” Cas says, his fingers tugging at the bottom of Dean’s henley, and Dean nods dumbly as Cas pulls it up over Dean’s chest, Dean raising his arms to help, and then they’re both naked and all Dean wants is Cas.

He gets his wish, pressing Cas against the mattress, drizzling some lube on his hand and reaching between them, slicking up both their dicks, and then it’s nothing but heat, desperate kisses, and Cas cursing in languages Dean doesn’t even recognise. Dean’s rolling his hips, enjoying the slide of their dicks against each other, Cas’ fingers gripping Dean’s arms like he wants to burn his handprint back onto Dean’s skin, and it’s not long before Dean’s falling over the edge, Cas not far behind.

*

They’re woken up by the sun streaming through the windows of the van; they’re sticky from the night before, and at some point during the night Dean kicked the blankets down to the end of the mattress, so when he looks over at Cas he gets another eyeful of naked Cas. Spotting a bit of dried come on Cas’ stomach, rummaging around, Dean pulls out a pack of wet wipes and reaches over to wipe Cas’ stomach.

“Missed a bit,” Dean says when Cas whines at the cold sensation.

Cas cracks an eye open, his brow furrowed and he huffs. “Food.”

“What was that, princess?”

“Food please.”

An easy smile passes over Dean’s lips and he kisses Cas’ forehead, tugging the blanket over him. Dean tugs some clothes out of the duffle and pulls them on before grabbing the cooler and taking the bread out to let it sit. Opening the back door, Dean sits on the edge of the van and looks around before heading to the front of the van, getting his boots and tugging them on. Leaning in, he tells Cas he’s heading to the campsite bathrooms and gets a mumbled acknowledgement in response.

When he gets back, Cas is sitting up, the blanket wrapped around his waist, hoodie on, and Dean would bet money that Cas isn’t wearing pants yet. They make breakfast, salted beef sandwiches washed down with some water, and by the time they’re done, Cas is more awake, ducking into the van to finish getting dressed.

“Where are we going?” he asks when he emerges, pulling on a pair of boots over his striped socks.

“There’s a butterfly garden by the main entrance,” Dean says, packing a small bag with some essentials. “Figured that might be nice.”

“I—thank you, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t look up from the bag until Cas kisses him on the cheek. “Good choice?” he asks.

“Great choice,” Cas says, sliding his sunglasses on.

*

Cas is in love with the butterfly garden, and Dean would be a damn liar if he said it wasn’t the main reason he picked this spot over the other campsites around the Missouri. When Cas isn’t looking, Dean takes a few photos of him with his phone because he’s never seen Cas so at home anywhere that isn’t the bunker, and the look on his face is one that Dean wants to keep forever. The butterflies seem to sense something in Cas, and he ends up with them perched all over him, the kids in the area begging Cas to teach them how to do it. One lands on the top of Cas’ head and Dean immediately texts the resulting photo to Sam.

*

They spend the rest of the day hiking around the river, stopping to chat to people because Cas is still, even now, fascinated with people’s stories, with humanity in general; Dean’s learning to take life slow, knowing that there’s nowhere they need to be, and he likes the stories as well, likes having evidence that there were reasons for them to save the world, to go through all the shit they want through.

There’s a dude fishing who reminds him a little of Bobby—his whole family out here for some kind of reunion—and somehow he and Cas end up being invited to come back for the cookout they’re having that evening. The matriarch of the family, Marie, tells them if they don’t come back then she’ll hunt them down, and Dean fully believes her.

Cas has been telling stories to the kids and grandkids, and it’s hard to drag him away from all these little people who beg for one more story, but they’re placated a when Dean says they’ll be back in a few hours.

“Why are we leaving?” Cas asks as they head back to the van. “They were good people.”

“We’ll go back,” Dean says, Cas’ fingers threaded through his as they walk. “I want you to myself for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, squeezing Cas’ hand. “Oh.”

*

They’re a little later to the cookout than they said they’d be, but Dean holds Cas fully responsible for that because, really, if Cas offers a blow job, turning it down would be rude. There’s more people at this reunion than Dean has ever been around before, and he stops, standing stock still for a moment before Cas rests a hand at the small of his back and kisses his temple. Letting a breath out, Dean walks over to greet Marie, Cas right by his side; she’s manning the grill, her husband, Todd, helping out by plating whatever she cooks up and Dean watches the easy way they move around each other, wondering if that’s what he and Cas look like to outsiders.

The youngest grandkid, Kayla, has noticed that Cas is back and she drapes herself around Cas’ leg, asking if he can tell them more stories. “Do you mind?” Cas asks Dean and Dean shakes his head, crouching down to talk to Kayla.

“Will you take care of Cas for me?” he asks, and she nods solemnly, swearing to look after him. Straightening up, Dean gives Cas a quick kiss and sends him on his way, Kayla still clinging to Cas’ leg.

“He’s good with them,” Marie says as Dean takes over plating duties from Tim. “They like him, I haven’t seen my granddaughter sit so still since the last time Peppa Pig was on all day.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, looking over at where even the eldest kids are enraptured by him. It fills his head with all kinds of notions, ones that he’s not sure they’re ever gonna get, and that leaves him with an ache in his chest. “He is.”

“What brings you out here?”

“A well deserved break,” Dean says, passing the plate of hot dogs along to one of Marie’s daughters—Kat, he thinks—for her to share around. “We, uh, there’ve been some dark times, but things have quietened down so, here we are.”

“We’ve all been there, honey,” Marie says with a heavy note in her voice that Dean knows she’s speaking from experience, “Go grab you and your boy some food and a beer and enjoy your vacation, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean says, stepping away as Tim comes back to help out his wife. “Thank you.”

Piling up a couple of plates with food, Dean heads over to Cas and the kids, sitting down on the bench behind Cas, putting the plates beside him, and waits for him to finish his story. Cas knows he’s there, leans back against Dean’s legs, and Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair, enjoying the simple connection it gives them.

“Is Mr. Cas your husband?” one of the kids asks, jerking Dean out of his thoughts, and Dean flushes.

“No, he’s not.”

“Why not?”

Dean flounders, because it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, but considering he’s still legally dead, and Cas has never really existed in the eyes of the law, he’s not entirely sure if they could pull it off. “Uh, we just—”

“He hasn’t asked me,” Cas says, tilting his head back and looking up at Dean, winking at him.

Snorting, Dean taps Cas on the nose. “You want a proposal? Want me to put a ring on it?”

“Start by giving me a hot dog.”

If they weren’t surrounded by children, there’s a hell of a dirty joke Dean would make, and judging by the glint in Cas’ eyes, he knows it as well. Dean pats the space beside him on the bench and Cas clambers up, kissing Dean softly when Dean hands him his plate.

*

“Did you mean it?” Dean asks as they walk back to their campsite, the beer and food keeping them warm, the beer making Dean a little reckless with his words. “The proposal thing?”

“Dean, I—”

“Because if you want a proposal, I’ll give you a proposal.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah.”

Cas stops in the middle of the path and looks at Dean. “You want to marry me?”

“Cas, you’re—there’s never gonna be anyone else. It’s always gonna be you. I don’t know what we can do, legally, if we can even get married, might have to use some fakes, but I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

The next thing Dean knows, Cas is grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the van.

“Cas? Hey, Cas?” Dean’s almost tripping over his feet trying to keep up and it’s not until they reach the van that Cas stops.

“I need you to fuck me,” Cas says, opening the door to the van and clambering in.

And, well, Dean’s not gonna say no to that.

*

The next day, Dean heads over and rents some fishing gear for them, and they sit by the river, working their way through the leftovers Marie gave them last night. Dean doesn’t know what the hell she puts in her burgers, but somehow they even taste good cold a day later.

It’s a hot day, Dean and Cas both in shorts with no shirts, and Dean nurses his mild hangover as they sit there watching the water. Dean’s slathered himself in sunscreen, trying to stave off more freckles appearing, even though he knows it’s a losing battle.

Later, Cas kisses each one of his freckles, pointing out the new ones, saying “I re-made you, Dean, I know each and every part of you,” and Dean knows that if he fell apart, Cas would be there to catch him.

*

Dean wakes up in the middle of the night, his heart racing, and he sits up, dislodging Cas from where he’s been sleeping with his head against Dean’s chest.

“Wha?” Cas rolls back onto his pillow, rubbing his eyes. “Dean?”

“I—it’s nothing,” Dean says, trying to get his breathing under control, not even sure what he was really dreaming about, only knowing it was something bad. Flashes of fire and torture, and _fuck_.

“It’s not nothing,” Cas says, sitting up. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah, yes, Cas, please.” The words are barely out of Dean’s mouth before Cas has his arms around him, and, fuck, but if that doesn’t help release the weight on Dean’s chest.

“What happened?” Cas asks, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. Bad dream. Do you ever—do we deserve this?”

“Deserve what?”

“To be happy. After everything we’ve done, the lives we—are we allowed?”

Cas is quiet, completely still, and if it weren’t for the fact he’s draped all over Dean, he’d wonder if Cas had vanished from the van. “We deserve to be happy,” Cas says finally. “I have to believe that.”

“Why?”

“Because as soon as I knew you, that set my path, and we can’t have gone through what we’ve gone through to get here if we didn’t deserve to be happy.”

“You still have faith,” Dean says, leaning back against Cas, wanting to soak up his warmth.

“I have faith in us,” Cas says, kissing Dean’s shoulder.

“How?”

“Because I always had faith in you.”

Dean shakes his head. “I still don’t understand that.”

“You don’t have to understand it,” Cas says. “Just trust me.”

“I do.”

“Do you think you can sleep again?”

Dean nods and lets Cas tug him backwards, tangling their bodies together until Dean is completely surrounded by Cas and, at some point, he falls asleep.

*

“What time do we have to leave?” Cas asks as they sit at a picnic bench for lunch, having stopped there during a hike.

“Uh, depends if we want to drive in the dark. Few hours, maybe more.” Dean looks over at Cas, catching the disappointed look on his face. “We can come back,” he says, reaching across the table and taking Cas’ hand. “Whenever you want. Or we could go on a longer trip, head west maybe?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Still haven’t seen the Grand Canyon,” Dean says. “Been up and down this country more times than I can remember and I never got to see it.”

“I killed the angel who made it,” Cas says quietly. “I don’t know if—”

“You could pay your respects,” Dean says, stroking his thumb over the back of Cas’ hand. “If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to.” Cas nods, and Dean lets go of his hand, reaching for the bag of chips. “We can go anywhere,” Dean says, grabbing a handful out of the bag.

“I’d like that.”

They finish their meal and sit there for a while, Cas coming over to Dean’s side of the bench and sitting next to him, swinging his leg over the bench to face Dean, leaning in for a kiss. Dean smiles into it, turning his body towards Cas, one hand running up Cas’ thigh. This is it, the reason why Dean wanted them to get away, not just the making out, but the fact that they can take time to do this after so many years of wanting and not having. There’s no urgency here, if Dean wants to spend the next couple hours making out with Cas, then he can, there’s no reason not to.

Cas sighs against Dean’s mouth, and Dean pulls away slightly. “What?”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Cas—”

“You. You’re my home,” Cas says, inching closer on the bench. “I want to stay with you, but I—”

“You want to travel. You miss your wings?”

Cas nods. “I wouldn’t give this—you—up, but I forgot how much I liked this. You like it too.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, nudging Cas’ head with his own. “I do. Living on the road for so many years, it gets under your skin. Okay, we go home, we make a plan, see where we want to go, and how long it’ll take. Sound good?”

“It does.”

“Wanna make out in the van until we have to go home?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow and laughing as Cas leans in, catching Dean’s mouth in a soft kiss.

*

They take the same route home, stopping off at the diner for a late night meal. Annie’s there, and she greets them like old friends, settling them into the same booth they had on the drive in.

“Did you have a good time, boys?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean says, a smile on his face as Cas fiddles with the salt shaker. “We did.”

“You look rested,” Annie says. “Same as last time?”

“Yes please,” Cas says. “No pancakes, but I’d like extra fries? And a Coke float.”

“Uh, same for me, minus the Coke float,” Dean says. “Coffee would be good, though.” Annie nods at them before walking away, leaving Dean to stare at Cas. “A Coke float?”

“I’ve never had one,” Cas says with a shrug. “I figured I could try it.”

The food is just as good as it was on the drive in, and there’s nothing left by the time they’re done. Dean rubs his stomach, half wondering if he should maybe stop eating like this, if Cas will still love him if his belly ends up hanging over his belt.

“Stop that,” Cas says.

“What?”

“Obsessing over your stomach.” Cas finishes his float and pushes it to the end of the table. “You get a wrinkle between your eyebrows when you think about it.”

Dean glances at Cas. “I do?”

“You do.”

“Huh. Verdict on the Coke float?”

“It was very sweet.”

They stay in the booth a while longer, Dean checking his emails, calling Claire when he sees she’s been hunting while they’ve been away. She’s okay, having met up with Krissy and her friends on a job, Dean puts her on speaker so he and Cas can tell her to stay safe and Dean would swear he can hear her rolling her eyes down the phone.

Eventually they settle up and get back in the van, heading towards Kansas; Cas calls Sam to ask if they need anything, and he and Dean stop at a supermarket in Grand Island to stock up on some essentials, stuffing the cooler full of perishables so they last the rest of the drive. By the time they pull up inside the bunker’s garage, Dean’s flagging, regretting pushing through after waking up so early, and he doesn’t make a move to get out of the van.

“Dean, we’re home,” Cas says..

“I know,” Dean says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Tired, that’s all. Okay, groceries and the duffles inside. Everything else can wait.”

Cas slings the duffles over his shoulders, taking the cooler in his arms, and Dean carries the rest of the bagged groceries. “Yo, Sam,” he calls as they walk in. “We’re back.”

Antilles is half asleep on the floor, and he raises his head when he sniffs the meat Cas is carrying in the cooler; Cas gets a disturbed look on his face and heads into the kitchen where, hopefully, he’s putting the meat away. Letting out a low chuckle, Dean rubs a hand over Antilles’ head. “Where’s Sam?”

“Are you talking to Antilles?” comes Sam’s voice from down the hallway.

“No. Shut up.” Dean walks into the kitchen, putting the bags on the counter and starting to unpack.

Sam appears in the doorway and raises an eyebrow. “It’s okay if you like my dog, Dean,” he says as he walks in, Antilles on his heels. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“He’s not objectionable,” Dean says, working on getting the groceries put away.

Laughing, Sam sits at the table. “You have a good time?”

“We did,” Cas says, standing up from where he’s been putting the meat away in the freezer. “We got engaged.”

Dean drops a pack of pasta on the floor and it explodes everywhere. “Cas!”

“You—” Sam looks between the two of them. “Really?”

“Yes. No.” Dean runs a hand over his hair. “Kind of? Cas, I didn’t propose.”

“But you said you would marry me,” Cas says. “That counts.”

Dean pauses, the pasta still on the floor, and he thinks about it, wonders if they can even make it happen, if it’ll work out, if they’re allowed to have this, but—. “Yeah,” he says, aiming a soft smile at Cas. “It counts.”

“So you are engaged?” Sam asks tentatively, Antilles lying by his feet.

“Yeah, Sammy, we’re engaged,” Dean says, as he walks over to Cas, pasta crunching underneath his feet, and that’s gonna be a bitch to clean up later, but right now he doesn’t care. All he can see is Cas, the ridiculous smile he’s got on his face, and as soon as he reaches him, Dean cups Cas’ face with one hand, drawing him into a slow kiss. Resting their foreheads together when they part, Dean runs his hands down Cas’ sides and grips his hips tightly. “That work for you?” he asks Cas.

“You work for me,” Cas says, smiling right back at Dean.

Maybe this is how it’s meant to be, Dean thinks as he presses a soft kiss against Cas’ mouth again. Maybe this is exactly how they get their happy ending.


End file.
